Bare
by mellowship
Summary: Dan's not acting like himself and Blair tries to figure out what's going on. "She's seen this look before – the look in someone's eyes when they've lost everything. It's her look and Chuck's look and now it's Dan's look" DB one-shot.


**Bare**

**Warning: Possible spoilers (unconfirmed as far as I know, but still… proceed at your own risk!)**

***I do not own Gossip Girl**

Jade green Jimmy Choo's click-clack in rapid succession as she strides quickly and purposefully towards a distinct Brooklyn loft. The streets of Manhattan are slick, but Blair Waldorf doesn't bother with an umbrella. She's on a mission, and wet hair be damned, she's going to get what she wants.

She knocks furiously on the door, and when a messy-haired, tired-eyed Dan Humphrey opens it, Blair doesn't even bother to ask for permission to enter. She hastily peels off her green Vera Wang trench coat and drops it on the Dan's tattered old couch, turning on her heels with fire in her rich, dark eyes.

Her words are clear and sharp. "Spill it, Cabbage Patch. What the _hell _is going on with you?" Her shrill voice stabs at Dan's ears like a dagger.

Dan drags a hand through his wavy locks. "What are you talking about, Blair?" He's clearly lost and Blair knows this.

It's why she's here. It's why she has to help him find himself (though her record, as it stands, is weak. Chuck Bass is forever wayward).

"I know your brain isn't _that_ tiny, Humphrey. Figure it out. You freaked out on Vanessa. You freaked out on Serena. You freaked out on _me_, and a Humphrey in his right mind would know better than to do that. What's your _problem_?" She hits him on the arm for emphasis.

"Ow!" Dan hisses as he rubs his arm, a red mark forming where she has just smacked him.

"Well, you deserve it! You tried to ruin my birthday!" Blair shrieks.

Dan sighs heavily; it reeks of alcohol. Long-lashed eyes widen in shock as Blair takes a step towards Dan and grabs his chin. She sniffs and then shakes her head in disbelief. "Tell me you haven't been drinking by yourself. I don't need another miserable alcoholic on my hands."

Shuffling towards the couch, Dan doesn't bother to respond. Instead, he sits down and lets his head fall heavy in his hands.

Concerned, Blair takes a seat next to Dan. Crimson-stained lips murmur, "Humphrey…"

Finally, Dan lifts his head. It's a slow movement, labored as if his skull weighs a hundred pounds. "I'm not drunk. I, uh… I drank, but I'm not drunk, Blair. I swear."

A heart clenches. A familiar feeling bubbles in Blair's stomach. She's seen this look before –the look in someone's eyes when they've lost everything. It's her look and Chuck's look and now it's Dan's look. Blair places a hand on his lower arm, and for once she doesn't feel like she needs to be deloused; in fact, she feels a connection. "Would you just talk to me, Humphrey? It's not like I can even be mad at you for what you tried to do to me, considering the fact that you failed so miserably at it. Besides, as you know, I'm very persistent. If you won't talk, I'll just throw you in the shower because you smell like liquor, and after that, perhaps I'll lift your spirits by singing a –"

Wearily, Dan turns to Blair and holds up a hand. "For the love of God, no singing. Please. I think I'm getting a delayed hangover. Or, um, maybe that's just from you yelling at me. I can't really tell."

Blair smiles brightly. "That's my Cabbage Patch. Now, make fun of my elitist morals or something."

"You _want_ to be verbally abused?" Dan asks with a faint grin.

Shrugging, Blair says nonchalantly, "It's not like Chuck's prose is Shakespearean love sonnets."

Dan quirks a brow. "It's not okay, you know. How Chuck treats you, I mean. I know you love him and all, but –"

Cutting him off, Blair says sharply, "Chuck and I are one the same. We live to hurt. It's our nature. Case closed."

Dan shakes his head. "I think that if you really believed that, you would have forgiven him by now."

A roll of the eyes and a bitter laugh tells Dan that the subject of all things Bass is barred; however, the idea of having a real, civilized conversation with Blair compels him to open up. Dan takes a moment. He thinks and rethinks, wraps his thoughts and unwraps them. Finally, the words come to him. "You know, I've come to realize that I've become everything I've preached against since I started going to St. Jude's. I'm a bad son, a bad brother, a bad friend, and even a bad father. I'd add a bad boyfriend in there, except that, I'm, um, single now." Dan's harangue ends with a loud sigh as he flops his head back against the couch cushion, exasperated.

Blair imitates his actions. Dampened curls further flatten against the soft fabric of the couch, and a moment is shared in silence as heavy rain drenches the city. Glancing sideways, Blair feels a pang of sympathy. "You should give yourself more credit, Humphrey. You're one of the nicest people I know. I guess that's not saying much seeing as how most of my acquaintances would kill a man for VIP entrance to Victrola, but you know what I mean."

Dan grins weakly, charmed by Blair's words (and if he's being honest, the lips through which she speaks them). "Uh, yeah. I guess. Thanks."

Silence overtakes the room again. It's comfortable, though, and warm, much unlike the weather at the moment. "Humphrey?" Blair begins, smoothing out invisible wrinkles in her dress.

Dan rolls his head to the side so that he can face Blair. "Yeah?"

Furrowing her brow as if in deep thought, Blair asks, "You know that I actually care about what happens to you, right?"

Dan opens his mouth to speak, but words fail him. He can't imagine someone as regal as Blair giving a damn about him, let alone admitting it. Picking at the fabric of the couch, Dan searches for an answer before responding, "I… well, no, Blair. To be honest, I didn't. I mean, I'm glad you told me. It's good to know there's one person out there that doesn't absolutely hate me right now. After I tried to, um, ruin your birthday and all, I'm surprised that you don't, because you should."

"Oh, Humphrey," Blair comments with a nonchalant wave of the hand, "watching you scheme all by yourself was like a mama bear watching her cub catch his first salmon. A poorly executed salmon, I might add."

Dan can't help but laugh. "You're comparing my plotting skills to a fish?"

"Something like that. I hope you now see that the mentee will never surpass the mentor." Thin legs bend to stand and Blair starts putting on her trench coat. Her eyes flicker to Dan's, sparkling as they catch the faintest trace of a smirk. "Now, Humphrey, I hoped our little talk helped. Remember what I said. Less drinking, more showering."

"Right. Showers are good. Vodka is bad," Dan reiterates as he gets to his feet, stomach clenching tightly as he watches Blair start turning towards the loft exit.

Impulsively, he reaches a hand out.

His fingers graze Blair's shoulder; they both freeze at the connection. A slow spin on her heels and suddenly, the distance between Blair and Dan is alarmingly close. "Can I help you?" she asks sweetly, trying to mask her nerves.

The soft light in the loft reflects perfectly off of Dan's sculpted cheekbones. He's carved from stone, strong and sharp. "Blair. Thank you," he says with quiet reverence. His eyes drop to the bow of her lips before flickering upwards again. "I mean it."

Dark locks on dark and Blair's fighting the urge to touch his face, to see if this stranger before her is really Dan Humphrey. She finds her fingers fluttering to the fabric of his Henley shirt before jolting her hand back suddenly. Electrified, she manages a sharp "you're welcome," swallowing hard before turning away from him again.

It isn't until her foot is halfway out the door that she feels Dan's hand wrap around her waist. "Blair." He pulls her back in deftly; Blair is too stunned to protest.

The door is closed again, and Blair is pressed against it.

_Dan_ is pressed against _her_.

"Blair." He murmurs her name a second time, his hands lingering at her hips.

Blair's heart is suddenly pounding as a warm feeling radiates from her belly all the way down her trembling legs. "Dan, what are you…" She uses his first name because this isn't _Humphrey_ that's making her toes tingle with excitement. This isn't _Humphrey_ that's staring at her like she's the most desirable woman in the world.

"You don't have to go," he whispers, tucking a damp strand of hair behind Blair's ear.

The tone of his voice is so earnest, so painfully vulnerable in this naked moment that it reminds Blair of herself at her darkest hour. Her brain tells her to go, to avoid this altogether, but a surging desire is coursing through her veins with such power that she can't refuse.

And so she doesn't.

He moans her name, she screams his, and when Dan collapses on top of Blair, still inside of her, they both know that everything's changed.

When Dan finally gets up, he discards the used condom and stands for a second at the foot of the bed, staring at the woman in his bed in awe. Blair is all flushed cheeks and tangled hair and tingling satisfaction, and Dan's heart swells at the fact that it's all due to him.

"Are you catatonic or something, Humphrey? You haven't blinked in, like, five minutes," Blair observes, her voice playful as she draws Dan's thin, black sheet across her body.

Dan smiles lopsidedly. "I see you're already back to using your favorite term of endearment. I fear not, however, as what just happened is enough blackmail to get you to start calling me by my first name."

"I don't think either of us are in any position to push each other away. Who would we have left?" Blair responds casually, making room on the bed for Dan to lay back down. "Besides, I like calling you by your last name. Always have, always will."

"I guess I can live with that," Dan relents jokingly. Settling himself beside Blair, he drapes a sheet over himself and leans close to her. He doesn't try to hold her; like a butterfly, he's afraid she'll fly away.

Suddenly, an anxious feeling compels Blair to turn to Dan with a worried expression on her face. "Hey, Humphrey, you know what happened tonight can't get out, right?"

Dan nodded with a low sigh. "Yeah."

"So then what happens next?" she asks.

Dan catches onto Blair's thought process, but he doesn't want to think anymore; he just wants to _be_. And so he answers her question as if it's the most obvious statement in the world: "We make coffee."


End file.
